Green eyes, matching the scarf
by Clayy
Summary: Harry Potter is different: he's cunning enough to answer his Hogwarts' letter instead of showing it to the Dursleys, but he also believes the lies they told him about his parents. A whole new sequence of events is set. This is a mentor!Snape gen fic.
1. Chapter 1 - The letter

**Chapter. 1- The letter**

Harry Potter received a letter.

That would be an ordinary happening for most people, but not for Harry Potter: he was just ten years old, and he couldn't think of a single person or institution that would send him a letter. His school communications were delivered to his Aunt and he didn't know anybody outside his neighborhood.

He found out that mysterious correspondence when checking his relatives' mailbox since his uncle told him to take the mail while all of them were having breakfast.

"Why are you taking so much time? Just bring the mail!" he could hear his uncle shouting from the kitchen.

"I'll be there on a second!" Harry answered while tucking his letter inside a large pocket of his sweatpants.

* * *

While completely alone in the cupboard under the stairs he used as a bedroom, Harry read his letter many times. It was written on parchment instead of regular paper and was inside an envelope also made of parchment; the excessively precise information about his location on the receiver field and the piece of red wax with a coat of arms sealing it were really weird, but weren't enough to prepare him for the contents of the actual message: it was an admission letter to a "School of Wizardry and Witchcraft", it even listed the materials he'd need for his school year and where he could buy them.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" he thought to himself.

But, Harry was still a child, after all. And he had still space in his young heart to believe in magic and miracles, even if it was with a healthy pint of suspicion. He decided he would answer "the wizards" on his own account, without the Dursleys acknowledging anything about it. The Post Office was near his school, and he had a few Pounds he got from mowing the neighbor's lawn recently.

* * *

 _Dear Wizards and Witches from the Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft._

 _Is this real or just a joke? If it is a joke, I must say that was a very elaborate joke, the most elaborate joke I've ever seen._

 _The main reason why I'm answering you is because sometimes strange things happen when I'm around: last time, it seemed like I made a glass disappear, setting a snake free in a Zoo; there was also that time when I apparently made my own hair grow instantly after my aunt shaved it completely; and there was that time I puzzlingly ended up on the top of my school's roof when I was running from some bullies, etc. I could write two letters like this one just telling you strange incidents like those listed above, but I think you already got the point. If magic was real, all those things could finally make sense._

 _But I have another reason to write: my uncle and aunt wouldn't buy any of this; they wouldn't let me go to a Magic Boarding School. Actually, they don't even want me to go to a regular Boarding School since they say they'd spend too much money with me if I went to one. Even if the course in Hogwarts is free like you say, I don't think I'm able to convince them to let me go: they hate everything that's unusual and strange, they'd just give me a big "no"._

 _I mean, if you really want me to enrol there as a student, help me, I can't do this alone._

 _If you're legit, of course. If all of this is just a joke, then just drop this act, because it's not funny._

 _Best regards,_

 _Harry James Potter._

Minerva McGonnagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, couldn't bring herself to release this letter just after she finished reading it. She kept staring at it, astonished. Harry's letter revealed too much, much more than his mere words intended to inform. This small single paper text had a dozen pages of subtext.

"The poor child, the poor child! His relatives didn't tell him about his origins, they didn't tell him anything about our world, and it seems like they're mistreating him! I told Dumbledore it was a mistake to leave him with those people!" she thought while finally dropping that paper on her desk.

"Well, I need to do something about it". she stated as she recomposed herself.

* * *

 **A/N- I'm looking for a beta to check out the grammar. Thank you for your attention. :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - The visitor

**Chapter 2 - The visitor**

"Ding-dong!" ringed the doorbell at Privet Drive number four.

"Who's there?" wondered Petunia Dursley while holding a feather duster. "I hope this is important because it's interrupting my cleaning!" she thought.

She peered through the front door's peephole: there was a man in an entirely dark suit outside.

Men in suits were surely intimidating: they usually meant business, in a good or a bad way. Maybe it was one of Vernon's commercial partners; maybe he was just a regular salesman; she hoped he wasn't some kind of preacher, especially those ones who ask for money after a long discourse.

She opened the door and was just about to politely query "Good afternoon, sir. I'm Mrs. Dursley, how may I help you?".

But, before she could say anything her eyes observed the man's face from a short distance, and after that she was in a complete loss of words while staring at him with a perplexed expression.

His clothes were dapper and fitted him well, his hair had a decent and short haircut, his shoes were shiny and he carried a black leather suitcase. But under all that tame he still had those remarkable features, those ominous black eyes, and that oversized hooked nose, so it was impossible to not recognize him.

He couldn't help but sneer at seeing her reaction.

"Hello, Tuney, long time no see!" said Snape.

* * *

"Do you mean that during my absence you sent Severus to the Dursley's to try convincing them to let Harry Potter come to Hogwarts?" inquired Dumbledore.

"Exactly!" answered McGonagall.

"Why did you think it's a good idea, Minerva? Snape was not very fond of James Potter, as you may remember. He was always trying to get James expelled, why do you think he's a good option to bring Potter's son to the school?"

"I can list some reasons why I think he's an excellent choice: first, He's a half-blood, and as someone who has been raised between the Muggle and the Wizarding world he's able to transit between those two societies with ease and discretion. Second, he and Potter's aunt are old acquaintances, since she and her sister were his neighbors for a long time, I'm sure of that because I still have the Evans' and the Snapes' old addresses registered here; since they already know each other, Snape probably already has an idea of how her reasoning works, and will know how to deal with it better than someone who's not familiar with her. Third, Snape isn't a social butterfly, but it doesn't mean he's socially inept; he doesn't like being around people, but he knows how to deal with them, he knows how to build an argument and he can be pretty convincing when he wants to."

"Makes sense." said Dumbledore, smiling. "I just hope he doesn't find a way to make Harry expelled even before he get into the school! Or worse: convince the boy to ask the Hat to sort him into Slytherin!"

"That thought crossed my mind too." said Minerva, chuckling "So I made him promise me he would be completely impartial if he ever needed to talk about the Hogwarts' Houses to Mr. Potter."

"Was it an unbreakable vow?" questioned Dumbledore, joking.

"No, his word was enough." answered Minerva.

"Yes, his word is enough." said Dumbledore, more to himself than to McGonagall. "Let's just hope his concept of impartiality isn't different from yours and mine." he jested.

"There's also a fourth reason." spoke McGonagall, seriously. "Due to his family history, I think Severus could have an above-average sensibility for spotting a child abuse case."

* * *

Severus and Petunia were before each other. She was so baffled and scared she needed a couple minutes before she could bring herself to say something.

"Lily!" she whispered her sister's name like it was an enchantment able to protect her from him. "Lily said you were hanging out with bad people, she said you were going to be a criminal. You're a criminal! You're well-dressed, so you must have ties to the Mafia! I'm calling the police!" she said that as she was shivering like a puppy in the rain.

Snape sniggered while he shooked his head slowly.

"I worked hard, really. I made an honest effort to look like someone you would let into your house. But the most I could do was to make you mistake me for a classy Gangster. Well, I'm disappointed." he said, sardonically.

Petunia remained silent with her eyes wide open and her feet pointed to her house's interior, clearly demonstrating she was feeling an urge to run into it and hide.

"Your sister said that many years ago. I actually did some mistakes in the past, but I've been just a regular teacher for a decade now. Also, even if I was a criminal, I'd be a supernatural criminal, and regular cops couldn't stop me. So, anyway, you don't have much of a choice than letting me inside since I was sent here to have a friendly conversation with you."

Petunia leaned on her door's threshold, defeated.

"I need a tea, a very strong tea." she muttered, desolated.

"Listen," said Snape. "I'm not a Mafioso, but I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."


	3. Chapter 3 - A secret

**Chapter 3 – A secret**

"So, he got 'the letter' too". said Petunia, on the verge of tears, while sipping on a cup full of hot Chamomile tea she clumsily brewed moments ago.

"Yes, and you should let him enrol at Hogwarts." Snape answered while drinking the same tea in an identical cup.

"No, I won't! I don't want it! I'm his legal guardian, and I don't want a wizard in my house! It's my right!" she replied contemptuously.

Snape snuffled scornfully.

"I'm sorry to break this up to you, but you already have a wizard in your house. I think you know, better than most, that being a wizard or witch isn't a choice: you're born as one or… you aren't."

Petunia constricted her lips while she heard his last sentence. Severus was aware he just touched a weak point of her, and he did it on purpose. He proceeded with his dissertation.

"Oh, well, Mr. Potter is a wizard, he had always been a wizard and he can't stop being a wizard, even if he wanted to; it's an irreversible birth condition, with all its perks and downers. The school is just going to teach him how to control and enhance his powers. And, let me tell you something: having in your house a wizard who knows how to control his powers is way safer than having one who doesn't. An untrained wizard is a risk for himself and the ones around him. That's exactly why the most active wizarding children are rather being home-schooled than attending to a regular school. I myself was a fine example of a magical kid who couldn't be left with a hundred other kids in a building without enough fire escape routes."

"You were a dirty little scamp, but Harry Potter isn't dangerous! He never hurt anybody! He just made a few unintentional silly tricks! He was able to attend a regular school with ordinary kids without any problems! He doesn't need to go to Hogwarts and practice magic; he could have a normal life!" she whined.

"Quite the little late-bloomer he is, isn't he? Good for you. But a wizard's powers grow as he ages, along with the risk he may represent. A reliable source of information told me he recently made a glass disappear, releasing an enormous snake in a crowded Zoo. That sounds dangerous if you ask me. Aren't you eager to see what he's going to do next? Maybe next time he's going to unintentionally release a faster and hungrier carnivorous beast, or he's going to accidentally make something explode in your lovely kitchen, also I would like to point out that there's an impressive number of flammable objects in this cozy living room."

Petunia quivered while pressing her hands against each other.

"But, if he learns to control his powers, he could use them to hurt and threat us at his will." she moaned.

"No, he can't, and that's a very important thing to point out". said Snape. "In the moment a young wizard starts his magic education in a wizarding school, he becomes legally responsible for the spells he casts. And underage wizard students are strictly forbidden to perform any kind of magic outside the school. So, if Mr. Potter even tries to execute any kind of enchantment inside your household, the Minister of Magic will take care of him shortly. But, you're only going to have this legal protection if you send him to school because our system doesn't consider magic children who aren't having any training responsible for their acts."

"But Lily performed magic at our house!" Petunia howled. "Once she turned a teacup I was drinking on in a rat!"

"And she got a warning for that. If she repeated that behavior, she could get herself in serious trouble."

Petunia covered her face with her hands, Snape proceeded with his talking.

"In practical terms, this is what is going to happen: he's going to spend most of the year in a Boarding School, and you're going to be free of him for months. During the couple months he's going to be here, his homework will consist of reading and researching on books and writing essays, like any ordinary boy attending to a regular educational institution. Under those terms, I think we could even keep the little detail that Hogwarts isn't a conventional school as a secret between me, you and Mr. Potter; your husband and son don't even need to know. What do you think?"


	4. Chapter 4 - The storm after the lull

**Chapter 4- The storm after the lull**

Mr. Snape and Mrs. Dursley seemed to reach an agreement: Harry Potter would go to Hogwarts, but nobody else besides them should know it was a Wizarding School, even the other Dursleys shouldn't know; the fewer people involved with this, the better.

They finished the rest of their tea and Snape stated:

"Well, when is Mr. Potter coming back? Another task I was given is to take him to the Diagon Alley and help him to buy his school materials. I would like to make it clear that I'm not doing it because I'm sympathetic to him; I'm a member of the school staff..."

Petunia answered throwing her teacup in the direction of his face. Severus was caught off guard; the china clashed against his forehead and produced a cut. Quickly, he stood up, pulled his wand out of his suit and put his left arm in front of his eyes; a thin stream of blood was running from the wound.

"What was that?" he snapped, furiously. "I was perfectly civil, Mrs. Dursley, I didn't give a single reason for you to assault me like that. If you make the slightest movement suggesting you're going to attack me again, I'm going to defend myself and strike back!"

Now Petunia was standing up, too; she didn't move, but her reply wasn't exactly civilized: she yelled at the top of her lungs, with all her strength, it was the closest imitation of a Mandrake's scream human chords could ever do. After she screamed so much she barely had enough energy to keep herself on her feet, she rested her back on a wall and started shouting a single sentence.

"WE WERE HAPPY! WE WERE HAPPY! WE WERE HAPPY!"

"We who?!" Snape interrogated, trying to figure out the reason for her explosion.

"Lily and I…" she muttered, as she slowly slid down against the wall and ended up sitting on the floor while embracing her folded legs.

Snape kept silent, waiting for her to develop that affirmation.

"Everyone openly said she was prettier and smarter than me, from a very young age, since as far I can remember. It made me really sad, but I could deal with that. She was my sister, we played together and we had tea parties with our dolls in the nearby park, we were happy. But then she started to make those freakish things, you appeared out of nowhere and told her she was a witch! Since then she'd rather hang out with you and hear your weird stories about wizards than playing with me! Suddenly, I was alone, mum and dad just had eyes for their supernatural daughter and Lily herself ignored me most of the time, in the rare moments she interacted with me she was painfully condescending, like I was stupid or something; any dirty little witch or wizard seemed a more interesting company to her than me. So I decided I should just move on and forget I had a sister at all, but then you wizards made me remember I had a sister, you gave my sister back to me…"

Her face was pink and completely wet from the tears that had run along it.

"…DEAD! YOU GAVE MY SISTER BACK TO ME DEAD! YOU GAVE HER CORPSE TO ME AND THE ONLY THING LEFT FOR ME TO DO WAS TO BURY IT LIKE A PIECE OF CAT SHIT! SHE WAS TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD; SHE WAS LITTLE MORE THAN A CHILD! YOU KILLED MY SISTER! YOU KILLED MY SISTER!"

By "you", Petunia meant "you wizards". But her phrasing was quite ambiguous, and in her mindless emotional outburst she managed to achieve something very few people in the world were able to: she made Snape nervous. He wanted to look away from her, but he was afraid she would try to throw another thing at him. He had to hold on.

"…And then, you gave me her son, for whom she died for, to raise. I really hoped this madness could have an end, I hoped if we trimmed him enough he could be just ordinary and have a regular life. But then he started doing freakish things like his mother used to do, despite all our efforts; and now you, exactly you, the bringer of bad news, are before me again, telling me he's a wizard…"

She made a pause and sobbed a little.

"… Are you sure you're human? Are you sure you're not a demon whose sole purpose is to torment people and break their families apart by turning one of their members into a freak?"

She blew her nose loudly in a handkerchief.

"I hate you, Snape. I hate you."


	5. Chapter 5 - The friends and the cousin

**Chapter 5- The friends and the cousin**

In a point of a school playground a green-eyed skinny boy, a plump girl sporting a ponytail and a boy with glaring native-American traits were sitting on the ground in a small circle while playing some sort of Dungeons and Dragons adventure. Harry Potter said he was going to be a wizard and Jessica Sherman chose to be a Paladin; they were both holding their character's sheets while Eduardo Sosa was holding a large rulebook: he was the Dungeon Master; he was supposed to narrate a story where Harry and Jessica were going to role-play into.

"It's the beginning of the evening. At your west is the Forest of the screams, its trees are too close to one another; maybe it's the dim illumination playing tricks with your eyes, but their trunks look like they have wicked faces carved on them. At your east is the cave of despair, it's pitch black and it exhales humid fumes; from where you are you can smell a faint odor of rotten flesh." said Eduardo.

"I think we should explore the cave first, it must be smaller than the forest" spoke Jessica.

"I'm fine with it though I think it also means less space to run if we ever need to… I conjure an orb of light and I command it to follow me". replied Harry.

"This orb provides bright illumination within 20 feet and shadowy illumination within 40 feet, it lasts for one hour." enunciated Eduardo.

"I'm staying as close as possible to Harry, my eyes are good, but they can't see in the dark, you know." voiced Jessica.

"The cave is warm and humid. You can see a stinky pile of bones in a corner of it, bones of men and beasts are mixed up in this gruesome mess. In the distance, you see the silhouettes of some creatures."

"I want to make a perception test, to see if I can identify the creatures from where we are." said Jessica.

"That's a long distance, you have to make a dice roll and get number five or higher." said Eduardo.

Jessica rolled the dice. The face with six little points stayed upwards.

"Yeah" beamed, her.

"You got it. From where you are you can see they're three angry looking Trolls holding clubs. You should be careful." voiced Eduardo.

Shortly after he said that, he and his friends spotted three boys with mean faces staring at them.

"Sometimes those games get just too real." said Harry.

"What's up, fellas? This game already started, but you can join our party in the next one". stated Jessica, sardonically.

"Those games are for weirdos". said Dudley Dursley, the largest among them. Then he stepped on Harry's character sheet.

Eduardo closed his book and stood up, Harry did the same, while clenching his fists; Jessica stood up too, she put her hands on her waist and stomped the ground with her left foot.

"Make this girl leave, so we can fight." uttered Dudley to Harry and Eduardo.

"I won't leave". replied her. "I dare you to try making me leave."

"Leave, girl, we don't beat girls!" said Peter Polkiss.

"Congratulations, you're halfway through getting some sense. Now you just need to shove into your fat heads that you shouldn't beat boys too." retorted her.

"You're cowards! You're hiding behind a girl!" vocalized Malcolm.

"Jess is our friend, we're playing and we're not interested in fighting. If somebody needs to leave, it's you guys". answered Eduardo.

After a few tense moments of arguing, the bullies left them alone and went searching for other victims, preferably lonely and easier to target ones.

"Sheesh, what's the problem with those dudes?' mumbled Eduardo.

"They're morons, especially the biggest one!" exclaimed Jessica.

"You're lucky because you only have to deal with him and his gang at school." whispered Harry, unhappily.

"Does he live near to you?" queried Jessica.

"He's actually my cousin, we live in the same house with my aunt and uncle, his parents." answered Harry.

"Strange, someone would expect him to be friendlier towards you since you're raised together." said Eduardo.

"'Friendly' is an inexistent word in his vocabulary, even his supposed friends are just people that gather together to hit other people." responded Harry.

"But, does he hit you at home, too? Before the eyes of your aunt and uncle?" asked Jessica.

"He hits me when they're not looking. But, lately, he only has tried it when he got, at least, one of his friends to hold me, since last time he tried to take on me alone I got to hit him, too."

"Your aunt and uncle should do something." voiced Eduardo.

"Yes, but most times they didn't see what happened, and they tend to believe him rather than me; they like him more than they like me. I can't blame them: he's their son, and I'm just a nephew."

"I'm sorry to ask, but… This scar on your forehead, it has something to do with your cousin hurting you?" questioned Jessica, shyly.

"No. I got it in a car crash when my parents died." answered Harry, gloomily.

Both his friends seemed embarrassed and said, "I'm sorry".

"It's fine". replied Harry. "They were both drunk, driving recklessly when it happened. They were very irresponsible, my aunt told me. Sometimes I think it was for the best."

"Oh, don't say such a thing, they were your parents!" shrieked Jessica, shocked.

"How possibly it could be for the best?" inquired Eduardo.

"Imagine how I would be if they raised me? " he shuddered. "My aunt told me I still have health problems because mum couldn't stop doing drugs when she was pregnant. But living with my aunt and uncle I have a normal life, I live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood. They're making me a favor, since they aren't even legally obligated to foster me, but they chose to. Of course they love their son more than they love me, it's just natural; and, yes, Dudley is a pain in the neck sometimes, but nothing's perfect." declared Harry, and then two teardrops fell from his eyes.

Upon hearing such a statement, his friends couldn't think of anything suitable to say.

* * *

Although they were all by themselves in Privet Drive number 4, Snape's overcautious nature made him cast a spell around him and Petunia to make their conversation inaudible to anybody else just before their dialogue about Hogwarts started. What was just an excessive precaution at first turned out to be something that spared them from a lot of trouble: Petunia's unexpected histrionic eruption would be perfectly audible in half of the neighborhood in normal conditions, and probably they would have by now, at least, two Muggle police cars in the front of the Dursley's home and an official of the Ministry of Magic inside of it charging them for violating the Statute of Secrecy. Thankfully, instead, now Snape was cleaning the blood on his face just after he closed his wound with a simple healing spell while Petunia was chilling out in an armchair after taking a tranquilizing potion he offered her.

" _Reparo_ ". he said while pointing his wand to the shattered teacup that was once used against him. Now it was in one piece again like it was brand new.

"Mrs. Dursley, I presume you're perfectly aware why it's important that you and Mr. Potter share the same home, right? And, if you're supposedly so concerned about the lives of people that you are related to, you shouldn't complain about the encumbrance of fostering him, since it's essential for his safety; unless you don't mind to bury another Potter, of course, this time with the bonus of being partially guilty of it". he said while placing the teacup on its saucer again.

"Yes, I'm aware of it. I think of it every single day, I still keep Dumbledore's letter". she mumbled, sounding tired.

"Nice. Well, going back to where we stopped: when is the boy coming home?"

"He and my son are going to be here anytime from now".

"Excellent, I can't wait to be done with this. Also, Tuney, I would like to ask you one little favor. "

"And, what is it?" she queried, apprehensively.

"I would appreciate if you didn't tell the boy anything about the friendship I had with his late mother."

Petunia could feel by the deathly way he voiced that last phrase that " _I would appreciate if you didn't"_ actually meant " _you're going to regret being born if you do"_.

* * *

 **N/A: I want to thank you all for your favs, follows and reviews! Keep 'em coming, they're the fuel that keeps me writing!**

 **I never played a tabletop RPG with friends, I just have an idea of how it works. If this portrayal of kids playing D &D seems inaccurate ****to you, I beg you to help me and send me suggestions to make it better, please. Actually, the whole reason why I chose to make the characters play this kind of game was because I thought it was a good way to present them and make that joke about Harry being a Wizard and that one about trolls when the bullies approached.**

 **The Dursleys are just as bad there as they are in the canon (though I'm trying to give Petunia's character some more depth), but I've thought that writing Harry as convinced that he should be grateful to his aunt and uncle instead of being contemptuous from the beginning towards them would be interesting and credible, since he was raised hearing it from them constantly and he's just a child, so it would be easy to his relatives to influence his young mind to make him believe it.  
**

 **See you soon! I hope you're enjoying the fic!**


	6. Chapter 6 - gas-lighting

**Chapter 6 – Gas-lighting**

"I'm telling mum you're playing weird games with your weird friends". said Dudley.

"And I'm telling her you wanted to hit us just for fun". replied Harry.

"She's not going to believe you!" answered Dudley, joyfully.

 _"Unfortunately, he is right_." thought Harry.

The two cousins were strolling in a sidewalk, going home. Happily, Dudley was usually too hungry at this time of the day to even think of hitting Harry, so the young Potter could have some peace being alone with his thoughts.

And he was thinking about the Magic School's letter, having mixed feelings about it. He asked himself if he did right sending an answer to it; if he wasn't being too mischievous and ungrateful to his aunt and uncle getting involved with something quirky they would certainly frown down at without even consulting them first.

But, there was something about that letter that made it impossible for Harry to ignore or turn down its proposal: It offered a nice and sweet explanation to the strange events that usually happened around him; at least a nicer explanation than those his aunt gave him.

"Aunt Petunia, my hair is just like it was yesterday morning!" he said once.

"Wasn't it supposed to?" she replied.

"But, you shaved it completely yesterday!"

"No, I didn't.

Then she sighed deeply.

"Your mother harmed you greatly. She didn't change her bad habits when she was pregnant, and now your brain is damaged, you're always seeing things that didn't happen". she added.

She gave this same explanation in varied forms every time Harry senses perceived something unusual.

Besides this, every time he looked up for some clarification with other people, they unknowingly somehow confirmed his aunt's affirmations on the unlikelihood of those happenings being real.

"Miss Williams". he whispered to a teacher shortly after the class was dismissed. "If I had my hair shaved completely today, would it grow to be exactly like it is now by tomorrow morning?"

The young academic blinked behind her huge glasses and smiled with kind condescendence.

"No, Mr. Potter, it wouldn't. Hair growth is a slow process; human head hair grows approximately at one centimeter per month on average. If you had your head shaved bare today, it would take months for it to achieve the length it has right now."

"Ah." mumbled Harry.

"Why are you asking me this? Do you want to have a new haircut but is afraid that maybe you're going to regret it if the outcome doesn't look good?" she queried, amiably.

"Yes, exactly." he replied while feeling relieved that she made it a lot easier by giving him a reasonable explanation to his question, sparing him from the work of figuring out one.

"Want an advice? Just have your haircut!" she said, beaming. "If it looks good to you, it will be nice. If it doesn't, it will grow back in few months and then you can just try again. Life is all about trying and trying again."

"Okay." retorted Harry.

And so, Harry went on and on believing his mind was wrecked and not to be trusted while cursing his luck of having being conceived by such a careless couple.

But then, there was that happening at the Zoo.

"Aunt Petunia, I heard the snake talking to me, and the glass disappeared." told Harry.

She shook her head.

"No, Harry, snakes don't talk and a glass can't just disappear. Oh, Lily! Why couldn't you think of the child you were bearing!" she mumbled.

But this incident had a different characteristic from the past ones: it was documented by outsiders. Harry was flicking trough uncle Vernon's Sunday Newspaper when he found a small article about it on a page. His heart skipped a beat.

He took this page and brought it to school; maybe it was his brain playing tricks on him again, but at least now he could show something concrete to somebody and ask it they were seeing the same thing.

"Eddie". said Harry when he spotted his friend inside the almost empty classroom during the break time.

"Yes?" he responded.

"May you read this out loud?" spoke Harry while he was pointing at the article on the page.

"Why?" questioned Eddie, "Can't you read it yourself?"

Harry was a bit disconcerted by the harshness of his answer, but then he thought to himself that his request to his pal really sounded odd since they were both literate children; he had to give a plausible reason for it.

"I need to change my glasses urgently". said Harry. "I can't read well with them anymore, my short-sight is in a higher grade now".

"Oh, I'm really sorry." answered Eddie. And then he started to read the small article.

 _"Mysterious Snake Scape – A strange incident happened at the local Zoo on the afternoon of 23 June: the glass which separated a three meter long Boa constrictor from the public disappeared, letting the savage animal go loose, raising panic and terror. Oddly, there wasn't a single shard of the vanishing glass left at the scene; forensics and the Zoo staff are working hard trying to figure out how it could happen. The most accepted hypothesis on the given circumstances is that someone somehow managed to steal that glass and leave unnoticed, but even this seems very unlikely: how and why would someone do that?_

 _Fortunately, nobody was hurt: The Boa mostly ignored the passerby and just slithered in the direction of a map of Brazil which was hung up in a nearby wall and informed the species of snakes that can be found in the said country._

 _'That was a funny coincidence that the Boa just chose to stay on this map since his species is largely found in Brazil.' said the Zoo's spokesman."_

Harry chuckled while holding his head with his hands.

He saw the glass disappearing, then he saw someone wrote about the glass disappearing on the newspaper, and now he'd just heard a friend's voice reading a text about the glass disappearing. Also, he'd heard the snake say "Brazil, here I come": according to the newspaper it actually went to "Brazil" (just a map, of course, because the actual nation is thousands of miles away and most of this distance is on the ocean, but still…).

With those multiple sources saying it happened, was it possible that all of it was just a product of his mind?

"Are you okay?" questioned Eddie, sounding worried.

"The glass disappeared and the snake went to Brazil, right?" uttered Harry.

"Yes, so I've read."

"Please, remember that, never forget this information." voiced Harry.

Eduardo was utterly puzzled. "Why is it so important to you?"

"I was in the Zoo when it happened, it was scary. I think of it a lot ". answered Harry.

"Well, since you're having trouble reading for a while I suggest we swap our places for today since I got a desk that's nearer the blackboard and it would be better for you." said Eddie.

"Thanks, amigo!" hissed Harry, humorously.

Since this day, Harry would eventually out of the blue pose this question to his buddy.

"The glass disappeared and the snake went to Brazil, right?"

"Yes!" he snapped angrily when Harry did this question for the twentieth time. "There isn't a single day on which you don't ask me it! The answer will always be 'yes', it won't change! What's the problem with you?"

"Then, just say 'yes' ". answered harry. "It demands little effort from you, and it's important to me."

"Wait a minute…" muttered Eddie "It's a prank, isn't it? Somehow, in a way I can't understand because I'm a foreigner, you're mocking me. This question you're posing to me must mean something raunchy that I don't know about and you think it's very funny every time I naively say 'yes', right? That must be it! That's not the first neither the second time someone did something like this to me!"

"No, that's not it!" answered Harry.

"What's up, guys?" queried Jessica when she stormed into the classroom.

"Jess!" beamed Harry. "Could you read this article..."

"Oh no, you aren't going to play this prank on her too, are you?" queried Eddie

"This isn't a prank!" retorted Harry.

"What?" asked Jess.

"Of course, it is. You haven't changed your glasses yet and I've seen you read just well with those... But it's fine, play this prank on her if you want, she have a higher chance of getting what it means and telling me afterwards." replied Eddie, and then he left.

"What kind of prank is this? Is it funny?" queried Jess.

"That's not a prank." answered Harry.

"Aw, I like pranks." she replied.

"Okay, okay, okay. That IS a prank, a very funny one. Read this article out loud and try to figure it out!" retorted Harry.

"Okay. _Mysterious Snake Scape_ …"

* * *

Now Harry had both a newspaper article and two close friends saying that something strange he saw actually happened.

Maybe he wasn't so crazy, after all.

And, a little after, he received his letter from Hogwarts, a school of Wizardry and Witchcraft, telling him magic was real and he was a wizard.

He just couldn't ignore this letter. Magic would explain a lot; magic could explain it all.

Maybe (and the mere thought of it made his skin crawl) his aunt had lied to him along all his life; when she told him the strange things didn't happen she'd be trying to hide from him the fact that he had supernatural powers. But, why would she do that?

Because of this very suspicion, Harry decided he would never show the letter to his relatives until someone from Hogwarts came to his aid.

If the letter didn't had an explicit order saying that he was strictly forbidden to tell about it to anyone outside his household he would show it to his friends, to make sure it was real. Now, he was struggling trying to keep up his conviction that the letter actually existed, he had answered it and now it was safely hidden under a tile in his cupboard.

" _It is real! It must be real_!" he told it to himself mentally multiple times, like a mantra.

Shortly, he and Dudley were before Privet Drive number four's front yard; Harry was so distracted he almost tripped on a stone. Dudley laughed childishly at that.

"MUM-UM! I'm hungry!" moaned the young Dursley while he hurried to his house's front door; Harry was way back him since he wasn't so impatient for his next meal.

Dudley entered the house; Harry expected to hear aunt Petunia's concerned statements about her child's nourishment while Dudley would keep on moaning until there was a large plate with delicious food before him, like it always happened.

But instead there was a dead silence, neither Dudley's nor Auntie's voice could be heard. Harry felt a cold feeling in his spine; something was off.

He approached the front door slowly, trying to not make noises. He did not enter; he leaned his back on a wall and waited. Soon, he could hear a silky low-pitched voice he couldn't recognize from anywhere.

"It looks like you overfed him."

Much for his relief, he could hear aunt Petunia's indignant voice next.

"He's not Harry Potter, he's my son! Harry Potter must be outside, being just too lazy to enter already. "

 _"Someone is inside, waiting for me… Is it… Is it what I'm thinking_?" thought Harry, feeling the excitation grow inside of him.

He gathered enough courage and entered.

"Here he is!" said Aunt Petunia, seated on an armchair, looking and sounding tired and resigned. There was a tea set on the coffee table.

Dudley was standing stiff and silent, he seemed to be afraid.

Finally, on a second armchair was seated a dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-dressed and darkly-mannered man; his skin was pale and sallow, which just made his dark parts look darker. He had a large curved nose and skinny long fingers that made him look like some sort of rapine bird. He was positively the creepiest person Harry ever had laid his eyes upon.

The first thing he did when the boy arrived into the living room was to look deeply into his green eyes with his daunting black ones: they were cold, lightless, but so piercing that Harry had the eerie impression that he was able to stare inside his very soul.

"You must be Mr. Potter." said the man with the same throaty voice he could hear outside the house.

"Yes, I am." answered the boy.

"Dudley, dear, why don't you go to your room while mum is busy talking to our guest? It won't take long". said aunt Petunia.

Dudley promptly accepted her suggestion, quickly going up the stairs and locking himself in his room.

The guest pressed the armchair's arm with his hands.

"I'm Mr. Snape, from the Hogwarts School staff. You've already heard about us."

Harry dropped his jaw.

"The magic school?" he whispered.

"Indeed." whispered back Mr. Snape.

Harry was a bit down; he was expecting a more wizardly looking person to show up at his door, not someone who looked and sounded like a hit man. There wasn't a single thing in Mr. Snape that suggested magic; he reeked of reality and cynicism.

"You've received our acceptance letter and then sent us an answer showing your interest to enrol at our educational institution. The materials required for your school year can't be found just in any place, so I was sent to bring you to where you can buy them and to assist you with this task". said him.

Harry eyeballed aunt Petunia, looking for a suggestion or a reassurance; but she seemed even wobblier than him, with her eyes staring sullenly at the floor.

"Will my aunt come with us?" queried Harry.

"I'm busy, and it's not necessary." she mumbled.

"Then let's go already, Mr. Potter, it isn't getting any earlier." stated Snape.

Harry wanted badly to go to the Wizard School, but the perspective of going anywhere with the sole company of that strange man terrified him; not only he was unnerving, but Harry had an indistinctively feeling that Mr. Snape didn't like him.

Nevertheless, he had to go; ahead of him were the answers to all mysteries of his young life.

Harry looked to his aunt once more.

"I'm sorry." he muttered.

"Yes, you should be." she answered without taking her eyes off the floor.


	7. Chapter 7 - Run

**Chapter 7 – Run**

In a crowded bus, a scrawny boy wearing a sweater and jeans that were too big for him was standing by a slim and tall man in a dark suit.

Harry Potter, the boy, was a bit confused, maybe even disappointed: Mr. Snape said he was from the staff of a School of Wizardry and Witchcraft; Harry expected him to do something like teleporting them both to their destination, opening a dimensional portal to there or even taking him to a ride on a flying broom or carpet.

But instead, they just walked quite ordinarily to the nearest bus stop; when the bus arrived it was already jam-packed and they had to stand, Mr. Snape couldn't even bother to hypnotize someone with those creepy eyes of his to make them give away their seats.

 _Maybe he works for wizards but isn't a wizard_ , thought Harry. Fortunately, a few stops later, the bus got a lot less congested and they could sit beside each other and rest their legs. Mr. Snape opened his suitcase and quickly took a book out of it; the book's leathery brown cover was enigmatically blank; then he started reading it with resilient concentration, ignoring all the surroundings, Harry included. The boy tried to discreetly peruse the tome's content over the man's shoulders, just to find out it was written in some sort of foreign language and he couldn't for his life figure out what it was about.

 _I think he won't be happy when I interrupt him, but I have to_ , assumed Harry, while he was trying to word his question in a way that wouldn't suggest the existence of wizards to the non-magic people surrounding them (Mr. Snape told him about the secrecy thing just before they left the Dursley's).

"Mr. Snape?" whispered Harry. The man didn't make a single sound neither stirred his head; he just moved his eyes from the book to Harry's direction. _Well, I guess it's enough to know he's listening_ , supposed the boy.

"Why are we taking public transportation?" queried Harry; after his question, he could see the corners of Snape's lips were slightly pointing upwards.

"Why not? Isn't it good enough for the mighty Harry Potter?" he whispered back.

 _'_ _Mighty Harry Potter', where did he get this from? ,_ thought Harry, while touching the tape-mended bridge of his round glasses.

"I just thought that y _our people_ had faster ways to reach your destinations." answered the boy, being very careful with his words and tone. Mr. Snape raised an eyebrow and his sneer became more evident.

"Of course, we have but you can't make use of them until you're older, it's even truer when you're unassisted. We can't guarantee you're going to be assisted by someone from _our people_ for your school shopping next year, so I'm showing you how to get there by conventional methods." he retorted.

"So… Should I be paying attention to the way?" queried Harry.

"Wasn't that obvious? Did I really have to tell this to you? 'Paying attention' should be your default state of mind, and I think you're more than old enough to know that. Oh, well, I can see already you're not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed." replied Mr. Snape, dryly.

 _Now, that's official: that man is insufferable. I sincerely hope the rest of the Hogwart's staff is nicer than him._ , thought Harry while trying to imagine how he was going to endure Mr. Snape's company for the rest of that afternoon. _Well, at least_ _I paid enough attention to the way to know how to get where we are now._

After they left the bus they took a train to London, then another bus; they were silent for most of the way. There was a moment Harry was examining Mr. Snape's features while he was focused on his book when he noticed something: a tiny blood stain in a point of his neck; the combination of that little detail with Snape's already unsettling figure made Harry feel a cold in his spine. _Why is this disturbing me so much? It means nothing; probably he got it when he was shaving this morning_ , the boy thought to his uneasy self.

They left the second bus and then walked for a while along some crowded streets where shops were abundant; Harry moved his eyes in all directions, trying to detect which ones of them were most likely to sell magic gear, but they all looked like quite ordinary. They finally stopped right before a minuscule run-down pub almost unnoticeable between two large and shiny stores; its name could be read on a dilapidated wooden sign: "The leaky cauldron".

"We're going in there." said Mr. Snape, pointing it.

 _This is strange. Aren't we supposed to buy school materials? Why are we going into a dark, grubby-looking pub? Aren't minors supposed to not be in those places?_ Harry pondered.

Then Mr. Snape covered Harry's head with the boy's sweater's hood, to a point that even his scarred forehead was hidden.

"Keep your hood where it is and keep looking ahead; it will spare us from a lot of inconveniences." he said.

It was when Harry had a terrifying thought: _he hadn't seen a single display of magic all the way long._

 _He had seen Mr. Snape's cold eyes, the blood stain, this suspicious place._

 _How could he be so foolish? There wasn't magic, there wasn't Magic School._

 _The letter was just a test, and he failed; he shouldn't answer it without consulting his relatives; by answering it he showed he wasn't considerate to his family, he showed he was just waiting for an opportunity to backstab them._

 _Mr. Snape was someone the_ Durleys _hired to get rid of him like a rabid dog before he got out of control; he was bringing him to this distant and shady place for not to be seen again._

 _That's why his aunt looked so sad and resigned when they left._

Harry thought all of this in a fraction of a second.

"Follow me.", said Mr. Snape.

 _RUN, RUN, RUN!_ , said Harry's gut feeling.

And Harry ran.

Harry ran with all his strength in the opposite direction, a small car braked only a few centimeters before him. Without stopping, he looked behind for an instant: he could see Mr. Snape wasn't even trying to go after him; he stayed where he was, his body language indicated he couldn't believe this was happening.

 _I need to find someone or somewhere to help me, a police officer, a firefighter; I don't know…_ conjectured Harry.

But, before he could find any of those, he stopped feeling his legs and his vision was getting darker and darker.

 _What's happening? I can't stop now! I need to go on!_ that was his last thought before he completely lost his consciousness.

* * *

When Harry could open his eyes again, he saw he was lying on the ground of a small and dirty walled courtyard behind a shabby commercial establishment: he could faintly hear voices coming from what looked to be a closed back-door, he wondered if it could be The Leaky Cauldron's back.

Mr. Snape was standing near him and he didn't look amused.

"I'm not being paid enough for this." he slurred.

Harry tried to move or scream, but his body wasn't responding. What was going on? Was he hit by some kind of tranquilizing dart?

Mr. Snape was reaching for something inside the holster under his suit.

 _That's it. He's going to shoot me now._

Harry closed his eyes, he was too afraid to watch his own death helplessly.

He waited for the gunshot, but he didn't hear a thing: he just felt a current of energy running throughout his body, he felt like his clothes were clutching his limbs.

Dying felt funny.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in some kind of limbo: he was still there, with Mr. Snape by his side. But, oddly, the man wasn't holding a gun: he was holding some sort of wooden stick.

"You can get up now, Mr. Potter. But, if you make the slightest suggestion that you're going to act up like you just did again, you're going to stay just as motionless as a flower pot for the rest of today's errands. I'm too old for little chasing games." he hissed.

Just like Mr. Snape asserted, Harry could move now. He got up and almost immediately he noticed something interesting: his sweater and jeans didn't felt like they were once Dudley's, they felt like they were made for him, they fitted perfectly.

 _Was it possible? Magic?_

"Did you... Did you…" Harry was trying to find the words to query Snape while nipping his sweater's sleeve; it was enough to make him get the point.

"The bagginess of you clothes was bugging me; I'm not obligated to watch such a display of bad taste so closely. I don't care what the young fashion looks like nowadays; you don't have the right to hurt my eyes while I'm escorting you all the afternoon long. I don't get anything for enduring this kind of insalubrity."

"But…"

"I'm not interested in hearing your whining, Mr. Potter. I need to concentrate now."

Harry's clothes weren't trendy, they were hand-me-downs; he was actually very happy with their new sizes and was just trying to say "Thank you".

Talking about fashion…

…Mr. Snape waved his wooden stick on his own direction and something amazing happened: contradicting aunt Petunia's and Miss Williams' statements, his short hair just grew up instantly to the length of his shoulders. His dark clothes seemed to grow, too: his sharply cut suit was transformed into some sort of long-sleeved long dress with a cape. Harry thought he was now looking like some sort of gloomy Drag Queen.

"So, magic is real and you're a wizard, sir!" said Harry, thrilled.

"I think I overestimated your wits by presuming you were already aware of that." rustled Snape.

"Yes, but… I doubted it for a moment because you looked like very non-magical before."

"Of course, because looking like a wizard with thousands of Muggles swarming around us would be a very reasonable thing to do. Your brilliance never ceases to amaze me, Mr. Potter." Snape replied, bitingly as usual.

"Mug..what?" questioned Harry.

"'Muggle', and the plural for it is 'Muggles': that's how wizards call non-wizards. Wasn't that glaring enough? Do I really have to spoon-feed everything to you? Can I make it clearer? It's like 'goy' for non-Jewish and 'gaijin' for non-Japanese."

Harry was starting to see a pattern: it was like Mr. Snape had the need to be always unpleasant, even when he was being helpful.

The bitter wizard proceeded: "Since you're so brilliant, I guess I need to make it clear to you that you should pay attention to which brick I'm going to touch now."

Snape approached a trash can adjacent to the wall and tapped a brick with the point of his wand three times; Harry cared to memorize which one. Suddenly, the brick he had touched quivered and wriggled, a small hole appeared in the middle and then grew wider and wider, a second later they were facing a very large archway leading into a cobblestoned street; Harry could already have a glimpse of lots of fascinating shops and people dressed in outlandish garments through it.

"Welcome to the Wizarding World." enunciated Snape, with a cynical voice tone. "As you may already suspect, if your IQ isn't lower than a slug's, we're more than people with elements bending powers: we're a different culture from the one in which you were raised into: we have our own customs, our own traditions, our own laws, our own views, our own way of life and… our own prejudices. The insertion of a muggle-raised person like you into our society is difficult: most of them can't take the cultural shock; I'm not sure if you have the strength of heart required for this, I'm not optimistic from what I've seen. I wish you good luck, Mr. Potter. Keep your head covered and follow me. FO-LLOW ME, UNDERSTAND?"

"O-okay" answered Harry.

They both stepped through the archway heading to the Diagon Alley; after their passage, it shrunk again into a solid wall.

A couple seconds later, a pale young man wearing purple robes and a turban opened the Leaky Cauldron's back door.

"Di-did he sa-say 'Mr. Potter'?" he muttered.


	8. Chapter 8 - The rich boys

**First of all, a few words:**

 **Just like in the canon, sometimes characters lie and doesn't tell what they really think. Also, most of the time opinions expressed by characters don't coincide with the author's opinion.**

 **Let's go! Enjoy the fic!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8- The rich boys**

"You kiddie is just so cute and smart!" said a chubby woman at the supermarket.

She said it while she was holding two-year-old Harry Potter; the child was giggling.

"He isn't actually mine, he's my nephew. This one is my kid." answered a younger Petunia Dursley while she gently stroked baby Dudley's head.

"Oh!" said the woman, just noticing the other kid. "He's cute, too." She uttered while showing a fixed smile. Then, she put Harry on the floor and left.

Petunia held the hand of both infants and stared at a random point.

It was the third time she was complimented about Harry that day, and every time nobody noticed Dudley until she pointed him out; and it wasn't the first day like this, it always happened when she left home with both children.

It felt like a terrifying Déjà vu.

Now she was afraid to even look at Harry for too long, afraid to agree with everyone else, afraid to recognize he was a much more charming child than her son.

She visualized a future were all she cared about was Harry while leaving her own blood and flesh in a second plan.

"No." she said, then she kneeled and embraced little Dudley while kissing his forehead. "He won't outshine you, Dudleykins. I'm raising him too, but you'll always be the only child in my heart."

"Mum, get off, I'm trying to eat!" uttered eleven-year-old Dudley while crumbs of bread fell from his lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie." whispered an older Petunia while realizing that moment was gone a long time ago.

* * *

Harry Potter was lying on a huge pile of golden coins now, waving his arms, trying to leave an angel-like shape on it, like he did a few times before with snow.

Griphook, a Gringotts' goblin, didn't make the slightest effort to hide his amusement. Mr. Snape, arms crossed, just stared with his default blank expression.

"So, how much is this money worth? Am I rich?" queried Harry thoughtfully, because he had read about some currencies around the world that were very cheap, therefore a lot of coins didn't always mean a lot of money.

"You have one of the biggest fortunes of contemporary Wizarding Britain, and it grows bigger and bigger each day because of the royalties that are collected from the usage of your late Grandfather's hair taming formula." answered Griphook, objectively.

"But it doesn't mean you shouldn't do anything useful while spending your existence being a waste of oxygen and space. You father, for instance, was so lazy he didn't work a single day in his life, therefore, he didn't add a single knut to it." spoke Mr. Snape, acidly.

Harry suddenly got up of his bed of coins.

"DID YOU KNEW MY FATHER?" he asked, excited.

"Unfortunately, yes." replied Snape.

"What was he like?" queried the boy, avid for any information about his parents.

Snape smirked at the prospect of being the first wizard to describe James Potter to Harry.

"He was the sorriest excuse for a man I had the displeasure to be acquainted with in my whole life, and that's something. He was lazy, a coward, a talentless exhibitionist who was very proud of himself for no reason at all."

"My aunt says bad things about him too." whispered Harry, desolately.

"Well, it seems I agree with her on something." retorted Snape.

"And… What was my mother like?" asked Harry, suddenly.

Snape made a pause to think and then answered.

"From the little I know of her, she seemed to be a self-righteous and vain social climber, she certainly saw in Potter an opportunity to have a more comfortable life; knowing your aunt, it certainly runs in their family's blood. By the way, what your aunt says about her? "

Harry was a bit confused: while neither Snape's nor Auntie's descriptions of his parents were flattering, they simply didn't fit together; the careless, dirty and self-destructive couple he had imagined for most of his life had little to do with this rich and arrogant attention-seeker boy and his greedy trophy-wife whom were being presented to him right now. Something was really strange about all of this. Snape was silent, staring into his eyes with an indecipherable expression, waiting for an answer. What should he tell him?

"She says my mother was thoughtless and didn't care much about me; she also says my mother didn't stop doing drugs while being pregnant, and because of that my brain is damaged and I have constant hallucinations. She says my father was a junkie too." mumbled the boy, bashfully.

Unlike Harry's expectations based on other people's reactions, Snape's face didn't flinch a single millimeter after hearing this. After a little while, he just sniggered slightly.

"Well, that's new." he said.

"What's new?" asked Harry.

"I've heard 'freaks' and 'weirdoes', but 'junkies' is new. I guess since your aunt matured, she thought her name-calling had to mature too. 'junkies' surely sounds more mature."

"What do you mean?" queried the boy, confused.

"They weren't junkies: apparently this story and all the related ones were just a way your aunt figured out to discourage you from researching your past and eventually finding out your parents were wizards; she wasn't very inclined to let you know you're a wizard, so I believe explaining the natural manifestations of your power as hallucinations was a way she thought of to hide the existence of magic from you." answered Snape.

Harry thought this theory made sense, especially when he recalled of how sad his aunt looked when Mr. Snape was in their home just about to bring him to the Wizarding World. Now, a new question was bugging the boy's mind.

"But… Why she didn't want me to know I am a wizard? Is there a problem with being a wizard?"

Snape seriously suspected Petunia was afraid Harry and her son were going to reenact her story with Lily, which wasn't exactly a cute story.

But he just kept those thoughts to himself and said: "I don't know what goes on her challenged mind, let's pick some coins and go already."

"How much of it can I draw?" queried Harry to Griphook while examining the contents of his vault.

"All of it, if you ever want. You're the only Potter left and by the Wizard law you have enough age to do everything you want with your possessions." said Griphook.

"I suggest you draw enough for your school year and a little more to convert to Muggle money if you ever feel like buying something in their territory; so you'll be able to keep up with your ascendency's way and be a showoff in both realms." advised Snape.

They left the bank with a bag full of wizard coins and another with plenty of British pounds, both somehow Mr. Snape managed to fit into a pouch that felt way lighter to lift than the bags inside of it.

* * *

Shortly they were inside Madame Malkins' garments shop, where Harry could finally buy some wizard robes for the school. He was put on a stool to have his measures taken; next to him was a pale and blond boy wearing an expensive looking sort of wizard attire; Madame Malkins, a cutesy short middle-aged witch, measured the kids and then left for a few minutes.

The blond boy gawked at Harry from toes to head in a patronizing way. Harry wondered if Mr. Snape's clothes-resizing spell worn off, but it didn't seem like it. Maybe that odd glare was because he was wearing "Muggle" clothes? But there were plenty of people with both Muggle and Wizard clothes walking throughout the Diagon Alley; his outfit wasn't unusual at all.

Then the pale boy questioned in a drawling voice, full of polite disdain.

"What is your name?"

The way the boy was staring at him made Harry so uncomfortable he thought this kid didn't deserve a response.

"Why do you want to know?" answered Harry with another question.

The drawling boy lifted his eyebrows slightly.

"That's a common question civilized people pose to each other when they're meeting for the first time. Aren't you used to it? If that's the case, I'm really sorry. Let me present myself: I am Draco Malfoy."

 _What sort of parents name their kid with something that sounds almost like "Dracula"?_ – thought Harry, perplexed. Draco just assumed that Harry's astounded expression was because his famous name ringed a bell and the commoner couldn't believe he was before the newest scion of Malfoy.

"Good afternoon, young Malfoy." said an already familiar baritone voice.

Mr. Snape approached the children and posted himself at Harry's right side, making it clear they were together; apparently he and Dracula FoieGras were acquaintances because the kid's smug attitude suddenly changed to some sort of reverence when he saw the older wizard.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Pri… Mr. Snape." answered the boy, deferentially.

"How's your family doing?" asked the man.

"We're fine." And after two seconds Malfoy murmured "The finest possible under our current Rulers."

Harry didn't understand what Malfoy exactly meant, but it probably was some sort of indiscretion because Mr. Snape crisped his lips censoriously.

Malfoy was now looking at Harry with the corners of his eyes, curious but still a bit afraid of receiving some sort of reprimand for his previous approach. However, his nosiness was stronger than his apprehension.

"Is he your relative?" he asked Snape while gazing at Harry.

"Aren't we wizards all related?" mumbled Snape.

"I think we could say that. But, why is he with you? Is he your nephew or something?"

"He's a soon-to-be-Hogwarts student who's here to buy his school robes, just like you. The Hogwarts' Administration gave me the task to escort him for today." said Snape.

Malfoy took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows like he had just thought of something dreadful.

"Is he one of _those_?" he queried in an almost inaudible voice.

Harry didn't know what " _those"_ were, but judging by Malfoy's voice tone it wasn't good. Mr. Snape's crisping his lips again just enforced this impression.

"No, he isn't, his parents just couldn't be here. If _for some reason_ , your parents weren't able to bring you here for your errands, I would gladly accompany you instead since they certainly wouldn't trust a servant with such an important assignment."

Snape clearly implied this was a subject that shouldn't be disturbed anymore, but it seemed Malfoy couldn't take a hint.

"Who are his parents?" he asked.

Snape closed his eyes and assumed an ecclesiastical resigned expression.

"Young Malfoy, you need to be aware that you're very fortunate to have both your parents by your side because the same can't be said about most children your age. There was a war ten years ago, and many wizards were either killed of imprisoned afterwards. Asking about someone's parents nowadays is a _faux-pas_." lectured Snape."

"I'm sorry." said Malfoy while staring at the floor.

Madame Malkins came back and brought the robes for the children to try. In a little while, each one of the youngsters had three of them perfected and neatly folded inside their shopping bags.

"But, what's his name?" asked Malfoy when Snape made mention of leaving the shop.

"Why are you worried about that? You're going to spend the next seven years of your life attending to mostly the same classes, you're going to grow so tired of his name and face you're going to feel destructive urges towards him." reacted Snape.

"In a little bit Father and Mother will be here with my books and other supplies. Don't you want to stay here for a little longer to chat with them when they come?" inquired Malfoy.

"I'd love to, but I have a tight schedule right now. Please tell them I send my best regards." replied Snape.

"I will." said Malfoy, with a note of sorrow in his voice.

"Goodbye, and have a nice day." said Snape.

"Goodbye, and may the dar…" Malfoy stopped mid-sentence and blushed, like suddenly realizing he was about to say something inadequate; maybe the deathly gaze Mr. Snape directed to his eyes had something to do with it.

"May the darling things that brighten up your heart be on your way." said Malfoy then.

Severus left with Harry by his side. Potter was secretly thanking heavens they were finally leaving that annoying boy behind. Draco just longingly stared at the door because his father would be enraged if he didn't found him where he was supposed to be when he came back.

"Why didn't Snape just tell me his name?" he wondered.


End file.
